My partner

Lately, you've been signing both "Momma" and "Dada," but you kept saying "momma" for both.  In speech therapy, Diane and I worked really hard on getting you to say "Dada" instead.  The beam of joy on his face when you said it to him spoke volumes: of how much he loves you, how much he appreciates the effort, how important you are to him.  As I see many friends who are single mothers struggling to provide their kids with everything they need, I think about how lucky you are to have a father like him.

But this post isn't about you...at least, not in that way.  I want to write today about partnership--it sounds so cold and clinical, doesn't it?  I mean, we don't read romance novels about partnership or fantasize about having a partner when we're little girls watching Disney movies.  But if you should decide to get married, my fondest wish for you is that you have a partner: an equal who respects you, works with you, roots for you, and pushes you.  That is what your Dada is to me.

When God created Eve, it wasn't because Adam wanted someone to provide for, someone to "protect," someone to satisfy his bodily desires.  God created Eve because Adam wanted a partner.

The Lord God said, "It is not good for the man to be all alone." (Genesis 2:18)

For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.   (Genesis 2:24)

Where does the Bible say that man is supposed to provide financially for a woman?  To physicall protect her?  Even the "they will become one flesh" means that they both satisfy each other, not that only she satisfies him.  I say this because I think partnership is underrated.  Of course you need the other stuff too, but there's no better feeling than knowing that you can work things out together, whether they be emotional issues, work-related stuff, or even raising a child...like you!  From very early on in the time your Dad and I were dating, I knew, instinctively, that we would be good partners.  We were raised with the same basic values, but we're different enough that we complement each other.

Of course, we have romance, and we have laughter (which is almost equally important), but it's that partnership that pulls us through day by day.

And I always knew beyond a shadow of a doubt--even when we were dating--that your dad would be an excellent father.  And he is.  He takes you to school every morning, goes to all of your important meetings, takes you to lunch so that I can work, swims with you, wrestles with you, loves you with all his heart...as you are.  In fact, when you were born, he said "she's perfect."  That was it.  Never any worries about the diagnosis, never any doubt, never any grief...he has always, always loved you unequivocally.

It warms my heart to see him doing swim lessons with you- he works so well with you and you both just have the best time:

So yes, he's an amazing father, but more importantly to me, he's a great partner, a great husband.  My mother, a very smart woman, told me once that it's important not to lose your relationship in your children, so I wanted to write today not about him as a father, but as a person and a partner:  my best friend.